


One phone call short

by laurathedemigod



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Sam, Gen, Protective Dean, SATs, Teenchesters, Worried Sam, john and dean are hunting, sam is alone in the motel, young Sam and Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 20:46:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8342146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurathedemigod/pseuds/laurathedemigod
Summary: John and Dean left Sam at the motel so he could study for his SATs, but when they're gone longer than expected and the money is about to run up, Sam get's worried.





	

 

  Sam was sitting in the lousy kitchen of a motel room, staring out of the window. His homework was spread out on the table and the pen was still in his hand. Sam didn't notice it though.

  As he stared out of the window, he imagined the impala rolling into the parking lot and a tired but proud Dean was walking out with his dad by the side. They would be happy. Happy because they finished yet another hunt successfully.

  That didn't happen though. The parking lot was empty and the only sound audible came from the slow ticking clock in the motel room, and it reminded Sam of how long he had been waiting.

  They had been gone for too long now. They should have been back a week ago and there had been no calls. No hints to let him know that they were being kept up. It wasn't unusual for his dad and brother to be home a day or two late, but after some time, they would always call. They would tell him that they were being held up and were gone a week longer than expected and that he should use the spare money to pay for the room.

  This time, there had been nothing.

  At 16, Sam wasn’t left behind often, but his dad had finally surrendered their arguments and let him stay home so he could study for his SATs. Sam regretted that now. He was almost sure something had happened on the hunt. Someone had gotten hurt and maybe if Sam had been there, he could've prevented it.

  The familiar feeling of fear and helplessness lay heavy in his stomach. Since the first time Dean and dad had left him for a hunt, Sam felt the same feeling of panic eating his inside. Every time the impala rolled away to do another job, he couldn't stop thinking this time something will go wrong. _They will mess it up and get killed and I will never see them again._ They always came back as promised though. Except for this time.

  Yesterday, Sam started wonder what he would do if they didn't come back. Would he stay in town? Wait for weeks, months and try to grasp the desperate thread of hope that maybe, they were still alive. Eventually he would have to leave. He didn't have enough money to pay for the motel room for ever, and no one in town seemed interested in hiring a lanky teenager who was trying to get some extra money.

  The sound of his stomach rumbling brought Sam back to presence. Longingly, he glanced as the fridge, but he couldn't eat. Sam had used all the spare money and the food had run up. He'd tried to save it as much as he could, but a growing 16 year old was always hungry and almost impossible to make full. Sam sighed and tried not to think of the empty fridge. He needed money. Fast. The other kids at school were starting to give him weird looks when he looked at their lunches hungrily.

  Sam started to go over all possible jobs in town for the hundreds of time. But he had tried everything. Every time he finished his list of possible jobs, a last one kept passing his mind, but he slid it aside. Dean used to steal when money got tight, but Sam was as sure as hell not gonna do that. He made himself that promise years ago, but the promise got harder and harder to keep with the growing hunger. _Keep your shit together._ He told himself. _Just concentrate on your homework._

  Sam looked down at the paper. He'd been going over his AP world history notes to help him study for the SATs but all the European fights and battles just seemed to blend together into one big, confusing war of power. Which it basically was. Sam snorted and shook his head. If Dean was here, he would call Sam a freak. Dean didn't understand why school was so important to Sam. He didn't seem understand that Sam was preparing to go to college and would be gone in less than two years.

  Sam could feel a tickling of excitement when he thought of college. There would be no more moving, no more lousy motel rooms and no more stupid lies about his identity. He could go to parties, get real friends, maybe even a girlfriend. Sam couldn't stop smiling from the thought and for a short moment, he almost forgot that he had been stuck alone in a motel for weeks without knowing if his family was alive or dead.

  Sam's stomach growled again. This time it was louder and more aggressive than before, and Sam regretted once more that he had stayed at the motel. With a sigh, he closed his history book, knowing that he wouldn't get any more work done that night. Instead, he found the few guns that had been left at the motel and began cleaning them. It was boring work but there was nothing else to do. Besides, as long as he was doing something, he didn't have to worry about Dean and his dad.

  Every time a car rolled into the parking lot or someone passed the window, Sam looked up just to make sure it wasn't them. Of course it never was. Sam was able to recognize Dean and his dad's footsteps anywhere and he could identify the sound of the impala's engine in his sleep. Still, Sam could feel the disappointment spread every time he looked up to see an unknown car driving by.

  Soon, he was done cleaning the weapons and decided to salt the door and windows before going to sleep. It was still early, but Sam had nothing to do and the lack food the past week had made him exhausted. As Sam grabbed the salt bag and started spreading salt under the window, he heard a sound that almost made him drop the bag. It was indistinctly in the beginning, but after a while, Sam knew the faint engine hum belonged to the impala. The sound became louder and louder and Sam stood frozen with a beating heart and looked out of the window he had been salting. The black shiny impala rolled into the parking lot and he could hear a faint sound of Metallica coming from inside. Sam kept standing by the window and watched as an unhurt Dean stepped out of the car quickly followed by his dad who also was very unhurt. Sam realized he had been holding his breath and breathed out in relief. They were okay. They came home like they promised they would.

  The door to the motel room shot open and a satisfied Dean walked in.

  "Heya Sammy," he said and threw some paper backs at the table. "We brought back some dinner. Hope you like greasy burgers from the road."

  Normally, Sam would have preferred a salad but right now, he couldn't care less.

  "Dean." He said instead as to make sure that the person in front of him really was his brother. Dean looked up with a raised eyebrow.

  "You sure look like a half crazy caveman. When was the last time you left this room?" His eyes fell on the table and the school books made him grimace. "Ah, you know, people can go crazy from too much homework. Don't worry though, I know the perfect cure; a night with a hot blond chick." Dean was in a good mood today and maybe that was the trigger. The trigger that went off inside of Sam's head and made it hard for him to control the sudden anger. Sam clutched the salt bag tightly and with one determined move, he threw the salt bag at Dean who jumped back in surprise with his hands pulled up in defends.

  "Woah, easy there. Throw stuff at your homework, not me-"

  "Dean" Sam's voice was shaking with frustration and Dean stopped pretending he didn't know what was wrong.

  "Sam-"

  "Where the hell have you been? Why were you gone for so long?! I thought. I thought something had happened." Sam couldn't continue. The lump in his throat had grown too big, and he was afraid his voice was gonna break if he said any more.

  "Sam, I'm sorry man. We got caught up and-"

  "Then why the HELL didn't you call me?! Huh?!" Just as Sam was about to explode in anger, John entered the motel room with a confused expression.

  "What's going on in here? Can't you boys be in the same room without fighting for two minutes?" John chuckled but neither Sam nor Dean laughed.

  "You know perfectly well what wrong dad." John sighed, and something told Sam that he had been preparing himself for this fight all the way back from the hunt.

  "I'm sorry son, we ran into some trouble and we were incapable making a phone call." Sam nodded but he didn't believe a word.

  "Is that right? So all the phone boxes didn't work? Were you _incapable_ of asking for a phone call at the gas station?" John tensed. He had raised his kids to talk to him with respect, but Sam had always said exactly what pleased him.

  "I want you to respect my answer." John said in a stern voice. "When I tell you we were incapable of making a phone call, you accept that answer."

  "You left me to ROT here for WEEKS Dad! I thought you were DEAD!"

  "YOU were the one who wanted to stay in the first place. Don't come to me and say THIS'S MY FAULT!"

  "HEY!" Dean knew the only way to get Sam and his dad from each other's throats was if he broke in.

  "Dad, Sam cut it out! We're home right? That's what important." Both John and Sam looked as though wanted to continue their argument but none of them did. Dean sighed in relief. He was getting tired of their never-ending fights.

  "Alriight! Let’s eat some grub, I'm starving." Sam and John kept glaring at each other but eventually, they stopped and placed themselves at the small motel table.

  For a moment Sam just starred hungrily at the burger lying right in front of him. Then his stomach growled aggressively and he ate it quicker than what he thought was possible.

  When Dean was half through his burger, he put it down and went to the fridge.

  "You still have any of the beer we left you?" He asked Sam while opening it. Sam, who's focus was on the food, just shrugged.

  "Dude!" Dean's sudden outburst made Sam look up in confusion.

  "Did you seriously drink all of it?" Dean said disapproving. "You're not even-" he cut himself off as he realized something. Then he turned around and starred into the empty fridge.

  "where's the food?" He asked and suddenly sounding worried.

  "Uh.. on the table where you put it?" Sam answered with a raised eyebrow. Dean looked at the table and sent Sam a bitchface.

  "Not that food, dumbass. _Your food_. You know, the things you've been eating while we were gone?" Sam hesitated because he knew Dean would worry if he told him the truth.

  "It- uh. I ran out." Dean's confusion turned into deep worry.

  "Ran out? What do you mean? We gave you 100 bucks before we left."

  "Yeah, but the room wasn't paid for, so I figured it was better being hungry for a few days, than being homeless." Dean felt a lump of ice being formed in his stomach. It wasn't supposed to go like this. Sam shouldn't walk around hungry because of his dad’s mistakes.

  Dean regarded Sam closer, and it scared him the way Sam's jawline was a little sharper than he remembered. It scared him the way his cheeks were a little more hollowed than they should be.

  "For how long?" It wasn't a question, but Sam still hesitated. He was obviously guilty, which he shouldn't be.

  "Only a couple of days." Dean bit his lip and was about to say something, but John, who had been silent so far, spoke up.

  "Why didn't you get a job?" The brothers looked at their dad as if they had forgotten his presence. Sam cleared his throat.

  "I tried but no one would hire me."

  "Then you didn't try hard enough." John's voice wasn't hard, just a little disappointed. Sam sighed.

  "Dad, this is a small town. They wouldn't hire me if I was the president. Not before they know everything there is to know about me anyway." John frowned but didn't say anything. For a short moment the motel room lay in silence. Then John looked at his sons with determination.

  "Have your things packed by tomorrow morning boys. We're leaving at 6am." Sam and Dean looked up in surprise. They weren't supposed to leave for the next month.

  "But dad?!" Sam's SATs were scheduled for next week and the change of plans meant he had to reschedule them. John looked at his son tiredly and Sam knew this wasn't up for discussion.

  "If the people in town are as nosy as you say, they know you're living alone in a motel room, which means we gotta go." Sam felt the disappointment spread. There could go months before he got a chance to take the SATs again. Dean looked apologizing at Sam but he didn't speak up. He never did.

  "We better go packing then." Was all he said, before he left the table only to clean up after their meal.

  When Sam sat in the car the next morning, all packed up and ready to go, he felt like crap. Maybe it was because he'd just called the school and canceled his SATs. Or maybe it was because he'd barfed three times last night because his stomach wasn't used to greasy burgers from the road.

  Or maybe he felt like crap, because he had stayed behind alone and scared for nothing.


End file.
